Gates of Hell
by Prism Angel
Summary: Within one of the elite military camps where ShinRa trains their bloodthirsty SOLDIERs, 16 year old Kyra Avalon becomes infatuated with 17 year old Sephiroth, whose life of seclusion and isolation causes him to be mysteriously drawn to her as well.
1. Chapter 1

L'Amour de la Crainte ~ Chapter One

I couldn't remember the last night I had actually slept.

As long as I could recall, every night for close to a month had been interrupted by a vicious nightmare or powerful shiver that awoke me from sleep. It was starting to bother me now -- even though I usually couldn't remember what terrifying dream had swept through my mind, I couldn't seem to shake the noticeable quivering that had begun to manifest itself in my body. And now I was afraid to sleep.

It had to be close to 3:00 in the morning when I jolted into an upright sitting position, inhaling a sharp gasp and casting my blankets off from atop me. I remained in that stance for probably close to 15 minutes, sweating profusely down my flushed face and staring blankly down at the mattress beneath me through the darkness. The only sounds that were audible were the quiet whisper of the breezes wafting through the open window across the room and the hushed breathing of my slumbering bunkmates somewhere around me in the dark. This situation was much too familiar to me.

I slowly slid my legs over the mattress and stood, groggily sauntering my way over to the ajar window and pressing my sweaty forehead up against the cold glass. How long had this been happening? It had to be for close to a year, when I had first enlisted in SOLDIER at 15. Ever since I had left the house...ever since I had come to this goddam campus I had been miserable without sleep. How much longer could it possibly continue? And, more importantly, how much longer could I possibly survive through it?

~*~

"Faster, Avalon, faster!!"

My heart was hammering now, pounding so furiously within my chest that it felt as if my ribcage was being crushed in some sort of tightening vice, and every panting breath that escaped my chapped lips scraped dryly against my throat. I could still vaguely see him -- the tall, stocky man who I knew as Degan Garcia, lieutenant, partially hunched over before me while holding a large yellow punching pad out in front of him. Sweat burned my eyes.

"Avalon, I'm gonna beat your ass!!" he shouted over my loud gasps for air and furious cries each time my fists hit the pad with a muffled smack. "If you fought so sluggishly in a real battle, you'd be dead on the ground right now! Now c'mon -- defensive!!"

I instantly leapt backwards, shifting my weight back and forth between my feet with both fists held up before my face. Several loose strands of wet brunette hair trickled wildly down from my ponytail. He lunged forward, causing me to bend awkwardly to my left side to avoid his attack. He lunged again, this time to the left, and I responded by tilting tightly to the right. Sweat droplets glistened in the phosphorescent light.

"Back on offensive -- one, two!" Garcia backed off once again, holding up his pad, as I instantly switched modes and began to lash out in a consecutive string of punches. "No, faster, I said, dammit!" he bellowed angrily. "Ready -- one two one two one two!!"

My knuckles were completely raw now, and at every contact with the pad a stinging sensation shot across my fist. My legs were burning from the constant weight shift, and the clamp around my chest seemed to have squeezed all the air from me. Jesus, how much longer was he going to make me do this?

"And...time!" Garcia instructed finally, as if able to hear my thoughts. He straightened himself up, sliding the pad off his arm, as I finally hunched over to catch my breath. More sweat spattered to the floor. "....Good," he told me, hitting the button on the stopwatch that hung from his throat. "You lasted ten seconds longer than last time. But your speed is pathetic, Avalon, you should be able to duke out at least eighty punches a minute. And be able to hold that speed for at least fifteen. You will be worked double time until the results are satisfactory, do you hear me, Avalon?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. At ease, then."

I wearily watched after him as he made his way across the gym, towards where a group of teenage males were weight lifting. I struggled to catch my breath for several moments, then huffed angrily. "You stupid asshole," I panted irritably, quietly enough just to ensure that he wouldn't hear me. "I'd like to see you do any better. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. What a prick."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and straightened myself up, shifting the loose strands of hair behind my ear. Dressed only in a sports bra and sweats, the sweat glistening on my stomach and chest almost resembled a glaze of water on glass. That stupid fag. I rubbed at my sore wrists, then shifted my neck from side to side. My lack of sleep was definitely not helping my performance. But how do you explain that to a brainless, heartless jackass?

An amused giggle from behind me brought me to my senses. "Uh oh, busted by Garcia again, eh, Kay?"

I remained motionless for another second or two, catching my breath, then turned to face the entertained-looking blond that strode up beside me. "...Yea, yea, laugh it up," I huffed irritably, wiping away the sweat from my forehead. "Is everyone treated like this, or am I just goddam lucky?"

The girl -- who I knew as one of my good friends named Aimee -- smiled and gave me a reassuring punch on the shoulder. She was a real sweetheart, Aimee, about 5' 6" with long blond hair and sparkling green eyes. She was as old as I was -- sixteen -- and we had been friends ever since we had begun rooming together after joining up to train for SOLDIER. It was kind of funny to think how such a sweet girl was preparing to become a disciplined killing machine. Then again, I guess funny really isn't the word. "Take a number, Kyra," she told me. "I'm thinking of starting a petition to get that guy's ass back out onto the road."

I was still massaging my sore wrists, but I got a laugh out of the mental picture. "...Yea, I'm sure that'd go real far," I replied. "The entire faculty loves him. What a two-faced asshole."

"....Ladies....?"

Both me and Aimee turned at the sound of the voice, and I wasn't surprised to see the tall form of a seventeen year old upperclassman named Gordon Mathers. He was rather difficult to miss -- between his bleach blond hair and unkempt goatee sprouting from his chin, Gordon was the type of guy you'd recognize across town. He was regarded as one of the absolute perfect catches according to most of the female students; however, I had watched Gordon behind the scenes after harboring my own secret crush on him, and away from the eyes of adoring women, he was an absolute dick. Aimee, however, undeniably had the hots for him. 

"Hey, Gordon!!" she greeted enthusiastically, almost unnaturally. "How...how are ya?" She seemed to be turning different shades of red.

He put on a rather fake-looking grin, then dramatically flexed his muscles. I wished I had a thumbtack to pop his expanding head. "Just bench pressed 230 pounds and figured you two lovely chicks looked lonely. Either of you available to pop by my dorm at...say...seven o' clock tonight? It's usually empty around then, if you know what I mean...heheh...."

I think Aimee's face had more of a violet tint to it now. Hell, I would have been perfectly amused to sit back and just watch her. "...R...Really?" she stammered breathlessly, lifting her hands to her cheeks. Yea, that's it, play hard to get. Jesus. "W...well, if...if you don't mind, I'd....I'd absolutely love to!!"

Gordon beamed again, then directed his vision over towards me. "How 'bout you, Kyra?"

"Huh?" I cast a surprised glance over at him, unable to conceal my confusion. I didn't even know he knew my name. "...H...hey, didn't you hear Aimee? She said she'd go."

He flashed me his straight white teeth again. "Well, the more the merrier, I always say..."

I think I blushed slightly, because my face felt hot. "H....You wait just a --"

I was silenced as the gym door flew open with a loud bang, and simultaneously all heads turned to face the source of the noise. Even Gordon ceased his flirting to whirl about, and I shifted myself slightly to the side to glance over his shoulder.

Standing before the doorway was a tall, muscular young man, with long silvery hair held back by the nape of his neck in a loose ponytail. He wore a tight black jumpsuit, which most men wore when working out, that truly emphasized and magnified his already conspicuous muscle and bone structure. He was one of the most amazing sights I had ever seen -- he couldn't have been any older than Gordon, though his incredible height and chiseled expression made him appear older, and although he wore a wooden facade of somberness and ice, I could see he was noticeably handsome, with a pair of enigmatic blue-green eyes that I had never seen anywhere else. He stood motionlessly at the door to the gym for several moments, entirely aware of everyone's flabbergasted stares, then took several gradual, heavy steps into the room.

Instantly the other students began to shift to either side, clearing him a path and whispering among themselves. "Sephiroth...." I heard Aimee rasp from somewhere beside me. "Here we go again....Oh crap, he looks kinda pissed off today, doesn't he....?"

"I'm...I'm not sure..." I whispered back, unable to remove my eyes from Sephiroth's tense form. "He never exactly seems to be in a good mood, does he...?"

I think deep down I felt sorry for him. He really didn't have a past, as far as anyone knew, and his seemingly cold and malevolent nature drove everyone away. He had no friends, no one he liked to be around, even though he didn't exactly seem to hate his solitude, and day after day I heard rumors of how the league of ShinRa scientists that were constantly around would sit and take notes as they watched Sephiroth perform physical tasks, and how he was always subject to some sort of test. I had also heard that he had unbelievable, almost inhuman strength, and though I had never seen him in real action, I had caught glimpses of him sweeping up sand from broken punching bags. Sure, I suppose I did feel sorry for him -- but I'd be damned if I ever went within twenty feet of the guy.

The other students around him continued to whisper and point as he made his way over to the line of punching bags against the far wall. He had to be aware of all the stares -- hell, how could he not be? -- but he never seemed to really care. Maybe it was because he was used to being watched, or maybe because he knew no one would ever actually mess with him. Whichever the case, he never paid any mind to the hundreds of eyes locked on him all the time.

It took a good couple of minutes to restore the gym to its previous action, after Garcia and several other coaches blew their whistles and began to shout. A murmur began to run through the room, gradually building up to the dull roar of conversation. I finally turned back towards Aimee, shrugging my shoulders, when I noticed that Gordon was gone, already hitting on some other girl that had entered his field of vision. "...Aimee, why do you even bother with that dick? I can't even imagine how many girls will be at his dorm tonight....You're not going, are you?"

She didn't answer for a moment, staring dreamily over at him. "Oh, I don't know..."

"Aimee, Jesus Christ, it's gonna be one huge massive orgy or something!!" I protested. "You can't possibly want to go!!"

She exhaled a quiet sigh, then closed her eyes. "...Kyra, haven't you ever liked someone....?"

"Wh...?" Her question took me completely off guard, and I was still searching for the words to answer with when suddenly a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's got your thong all up in a bunch, eh?"

One quick glance over my shoulder revealed the large yellow teeth of a nineteen year old Landon, a bulky upperclassman who had decided to join SOLDIER as opposed to community service. He was tall and stocky, with a shaved head and hints of a mustache on his upper lip, and if you wanted the perfect example of a flawless asshole, this was it. Even before joining SOLDIER he had been busted for numerous felonies, including dealing drugs and thievery, and after entering the academy there were rumors of rape and unwanted pregnancy. Supposedly Landon scoped out an unsuspecting girl and followed her around until he finally got what he wanted, whether voluntarily or by force. Whether or not such heresy was true, I don't know, but certainly left a lump weighing in my throat.

He flashed me another wide grin, running his tongue over his teeth. "Goin' my way, baby?"

"....I....I don't think so, Landon," I replied shakily, taking hold of his hand and lifting it off my shoulder. "I...I think you should find someone else who is."

He emitted a hearty laugh, too loud and exaggerated to be real. "Aw, I got myself a real comedienne this time, eh? Avalon, right?"

"Kyra," I corrected him, shifting a step backwards. "And I'm afraid I'm really not interested. But I've heard of many others who are. Why don't you--"

"Aw, cut the crap, babe," he interrupted, grabbing hold of my wrist and jerking me back towards him. "What say you and me go mosey on over to the janitors' closet and get a little busy, eh?"

"I said no, Landon," I repeated, yanking my hand away. "I'm not interested. I'm sorry."

"Leave her alone!!" Aimee added shakily. Judging by her hesitation and the way her voice was quivering, I guess she'd heard the rumors as well. But I admired her loyalty and bravery to speak up. "No is no, now please just leave her alone!"

Landon didn't seem quite so amused now. "Maybe you didn't hear me," he said firmly, grabbing onto my arm with a tight grasp. "I said let's go."

"I heard you just fine," I replied, pulling away from him in an attempt to free myself. "Ouch, your hurting me--!!"

"Don't you dare turn your damn back on me, bitch!" he snapped angrily, whirling me back around to face him. "I don't think you know what yer messin' with...!"

"Let go of me!!" I cried, now reasonably frightened. I could hear Aimee squealing something, but I couldn't understand her. "What's the matter with you, let go!!"

I tried to pull away again, but he refused to loosen his grip on my arms. I wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish: I guess he either thought I would give up or he'd be able to drag me kicking and screaming into the closet. But it wasn't like no one had noticed our struggle.

There was a red hot stinging sensation across my left cheek, and after the stars had faded from before my eyes I realized I was on my ass on the floor. It wasn't until I could fell the blood dripping over my upper lip and down my chin that I understood that Landon had struck me, smacking me viciously across the face with the back of his hand. And now I was sitting dazed on the gym mats with a bloody nose.

Landon stood over me, staring down at my confused position on the floor through fiery eyes. "Listen here, you little whore!!" he exclaimed loudly, pointing one threatening finger down at me. As a sidenote, wasn't it because I wasn't a whore that he was all pissed off? Whatever. "You think you're so smart? We-hell, my dear, I guess you learned the--"

At first I wasn't sure what happened next -- his voice was cut unnaturally short, replaced by a muffled cracking noise and stifled chokes. A series of terrified gasps sounded out around me, and I think it was Aimee's voice that was whimpering, "Oh...oh my God...oh my God..."

I emitted a muted cough, shaking my head and swallowing the blood I could taste in my mouth, and with bleary eyes I gradually lifted my vision from the floor. Everything had gone so blurry, hazing together in the phosphorescent light, but it looked like a new figure had stepped before me, standing solidly only a matter of feet from my position on the ground; it also looked like a second figure was there too, except this one appeared to be hovering several inches above the floor.

Aimee's raspy whimpers continued behind me: "Oh my God...oh...oh my God...!"

The choking sound was continuing also, like someone gasping desperately for air. The second figure, the one above the floor, looked as if he was clawing at his throat.

A loud whistle blew from somewhere across the gym. "God dammit!!" a voice shouted -- Garcia's? -- and suddenly a third blurry form entered my vision. "No, no, stop it -- let go of him, for Christ's sake, before you kill him! Let go, I said--!!"

I watched in dulled shock as the airborne figure was sent crashing heavily to the floor, landing painfully on his side and still choking for breath. I could hear his voice now, cracking with tears: "...N...no...!! Was...was wrong wi' you...!! Could...coulda killed me...! No...!!!" 

For Christ's sake, was that Landon? Crying like a baby? Though my vision had not fully returned to me, I could definitely recognize the sobbing voice as Landon's, and it seemed so hard to picture his as the violent pervert who had struck me only moments before.

But who in the world could have done such a thing? Who could have strutted up all of a sudden and humbled that bastard like that?

I could finally see again; the first thing I noticed right off the bat were the shocked, vacant faces of the students that now stood around me in a wide semicircle, moving glances back and forth between Landon's screaming form on the floor (was that him shrieking for his mommy? Oh, to have a tape recorder...!) and someone who was hidden behind Garcia's raving form.

Who was it? Goddammit, you asshole, will you move?

I cast another startled glance at Landon, still writhing and wailing before me, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and immediately noticed the blood on my skin.

"...can't believe this -- someone call the damn hospital wing!!" Garcia was yelling, and two students instantly left the semicircle and ran for the door. "Tell them we've got two goddam students in need of medical assistance, pronto!" His voice dropped to a stifled mutter, which sounded awfully like a consecutive string of curses, and finally overcome by his anxiety he began to pace restlessly across the floor.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

Standing where I remembered seeing the stern, muscular figure before my vision returned, was Sephiroth, watching indifferently after Garcia as he scuffled to and fro across his path. He was even more incredible up close -- I could truly see the trained, dangerous muscles appearing through his jumpsuit, and his engulfing height, several inches over six foot even though he wasn't any older than 17. His face -- so stoic and impassive, with his unnatural blue green eyes and refined features -- showing no hint of worry of guilt. He stood immobily in place, as if chiseled from a marble block.

Him? Was he the one who had stepped in and stopped Landon? But how? And what the hell for?

For some reason, I couldn't pull my eyes away from him. I was in total disbelief -- I had never said two words to the guy, never even been near him -- what could have possessed him to step in on my behalf? I wanted to speak up, wanted to ask him, wanted to express my shock -- but my lips seemed unwilling to form any words, and the next thing I knew two hands had slipped beneath my armpits, lifting me up and sweeping me away towards the hospital wing. My eyes remained locked on Sephiroth until the gym doors swung closed and I was being carried down the hallway.

I spent the night in the hospital wing. I still didn't get any sleep -- I was awakened several times during the night, and I could never get any more rest. Even though I couldn't remember the specifics of each nightmare, I did recall blood, and the mesmerizing, indifferent eyes belonging to Sephiroth.

~End of Chapter One ~


	2. Chapter 2

"...So you're really sure you're ok, right?" a 16 year old girl with spiky black hair--another rather good friend of mine named Mackenzie--asked worriedly, placing down her coffee cup to cast me a shaky glance. It was the next morning, at breakfast mess, and I had left the hospital wing earlier that day in time to meet up with my friends in the mess hall. All immediately questioned my health, and although I repeatedly assured them that I was all right, they never seemed satisfied.

I smiled wearily, finishing off the last piece of my burnt toast and wiping the crumbs off my hands. "...Yea, I'm 100% fine." I gingerly touched the bandage on my left cheek, wincing against the aggravated burn that erupted on contact. "Dr. Carter said I'd just have a bruise for a while but that everything else looked A-OK. But she was surprised that my nose wasn't broken, especially since it was bleeding so much."

"Hm." Devil (the humorous nickname for the short, cute redhead named Angel) acknowledged my reply with a mumble, running her fork absentmindedly through the mush called "hashbrowns", then met my eyes. "...What about Landon?"

"...Landon?" I paused for a moment, thinking. I hadn't even thought about him since I had been rushed to the hospital wing. "...I...I don't know. I haven't seen him since the whole thing happened."

"Oh my God, it was awful!!" Aimee burst out suddenly, struggling to swallow her mouthful of bagel before speaking. "I...I was so worried about you, Kay, and then out of nowhere--bang!!--there's Sephiroth, who suddenly grabs Landon's neck from behind and holds him up in the air until Garcia ran over! And the whole time Landon looked like he was gonna choke! I almost passed out!!"

The other girls nodded in breathless agreement. "...But...It's kinda random, don't you think?" Devil said suddenly, glancing up from the tabletop. "I mean, Sephiroth never talks to anyone....He's the last person I'd ever think to step in and help someone."

"Yea," Mackenzie went on, casting a glance over at me. "Y'think he likes you, Kay?"

I blushed. "Sh...Shut up!!" I replied with a nervous laugh. "He doesn't even know my name! He's never cast a second glance in my direction! I don't think so!"

"Well..." Aimee gazed over her shoulder, where I could see, across the crowded, bustling mess hall, the form of Sephirtoh sitting alone at a rather large table. In one hand he held a mug of coffee (which tasted like turpentine, by the way), and his eyes were directed downwards. It looked like he was reading something. "...I can't think of any other explanation. I mean, he really doesn't talk to anyone, does he...?"

Mackenzie shook her head. "Never. I don't think I've ever seen him speak to anyone, with the exception of maybe a coach or two. But even then it as just 'yes, sir' or somethin."

Devil exhaled a sigh through her nose. "...But still..." she began distantly, staring over at his isolated position across the hall, "it was an awful charitable thing to do, wasn't it...?"

I didn't reply, gazing vacantly over at his motionless form across the cafeteria. He seemed so indifferent to his isolation, ignoring any bewildered stares passersby tossed in his direction, taking occasional sips from his mug and nonchalantly flipping over pages in whatever it was that he was reading. I wiped my mouth with the napkin laying in my lap, but I couldn't seem to draw my eyes away from him.

A shrill whistle came from across the mess hall, near the main doorway, and as I involuntarily started in place I could see the form of Garcia's second-in-command (and fiancé, I found out later), a rather pudgy middle aged woman with buzzed brown hair named Evelia. She wore a red visor over her eyes coupled with her hideous white stained tank top and camo pants. She dropped the whistle from her lips so it fell back onto her noticeably fake bosom (I swear to God it ricocheted off several times too). "Alright, you maggots!!" she bellowed, lifting her visor brim momentarily to get a good look around the room. "Let's get a moveon, chop chop! Anyone showing up late to their first session will take a nice long jog around the city, comprende? Let's move out."

A muffled murmur ran through the hall, as all students scornfully got to their feet and began heading towards the doors to their first session. I exhaled a weary sigh, scooted back my chair, and stood, then stopped again when my eyes fell back onto Sephiroth. He was the only one that hadn't moved, still sitting casually at his empty table, drinking his coffee and reading. He hadn't even glanced up when Evelia had entered, and now he seemed oblivious to the bustling crowds moving about on all his sides. I continued watching him for a moment, then slowly lifted a hand to my cheek, which emitted an irritated sting,

"Hey, Kay!!" My friends were already standing at the doorway located to my right, and they waved enthusiastically over at me. We all had Garcia first session for hand to hand combat, and they knew it was better never to show up again than to show up late. "Are you comin or what??"

I gazed back over at them for several seconds, then back over at Sephiroth. All at once my brain made some sort of random decision. "...You guys go on ahead!" I called back, flashing them a reassuring smile. "I'll catch up in just a minute! I won't be late, I promise!"

They all exchanged puzzled glances, then shrugged to each other, tossed me a farewell wave, and exited the hall. By then the majority of the students had cleared out with the exception of a few loiterers heading towards the doors and Sephiroth, who still hadn't moved from his original position. With one final click the double doors swung closed, leaving me alone in the mess hall with Sephiroth. I don't think he noticed my presence.

I hesitated for a moment, and I think my brain was finally realizing what it had made up its mind to do. Unfortunately, at that point it was too late, because my feet were involuntarily leading me over towards the table.

I halted several feet away from him, clasping my hands nervously behind my back and clearing my throat loudly.

He didn't react for a moment, continuing to read whatever book it was that he held in his hand, but then slowly his eyes slid over in the direction of where I was standing. It took several seconds more for him to actually raise his head in order to look me in the face.

I forced a weary smile, the hands behind my back squeezing each other much tighter than usual. "...H...hi...." Eew, was that my voice? I certainly hope it wasn't usually that hoarse.

I waited for a moment to see if he would react, but he didn't move. As a matter of fact, he simply continued to stare woodenly up at me as if I hadn't said anything. I swallowed and decided to continue. "...I...I'm not sure if you remember me or not, but...I was the girl...who...um, was in the gym yesterday, when you--"

"I remember you," he interrupted monotonously, and I think I started in place. That was the first time I had actually heard his voice, and I wasn't really expecting him to reply.

However, that was all. I forced another smile and licked at my dry lips. "...O...oh! Ok, then! Um...my...my name's Kyra Avalon." Once again I paused for him to react, but he didn't, so I went on. "I...I just...About yesterday...I just wanted to say...I hope you didn't get in too much trouble."

"I didn't get in any," he told me matter-of-factly, as if I was stupid by just suggesting the idea. "Unless you count a talk from Heidegger. Everyone knows I've had it out for that bastard Landon since he came here, so it was only a matter of time till he got what was coming to him." He exhaled an amused chuckle, taking another sip from his mug. "The little bitch withdrew from the academy too. Smarter than he looks, that ass. Knew I'd finish the job as soon as he left the hospital wing. Heheh."

Something about this conversation was making me slightly uncomfortable, and one glance up at the analog clock above the door told me I had to end it soon. "...Well, um..." I began shakily, brushing aside a loose strand of my hair and accidentally revealing the large bandage on my cheek. Although he still had his coffee mug raised to his lips, it looked like Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "...I...I know some people might not have thought what you did was the most orthodox thing in the world, but..." I slowly looked up from the floor, revealing a soft smile. "....thank you."

He didn't reply, but his eyes never left my face. His gaze was starting to make my cheeks turn hot, and another glance up at the time told me I couldn't wait any longer, so I slowly began to shuffle my way backwards, towards the door. "...Well, I gotta go," I said as casually as possible, although the tone of my voice still made me wince. "If I'm late for Garcia's class, he'll have my ass on a platter. See ya around, ok?" This time I didn't wait for him to answer me, and with that I spun about and dashed for the doors. Even after I had left the mess hall, I could still feel his unusual blue green eyes boring into my back.

~End of Chapter Two~


	3. Chapter 3

The Gates of Hell ~ Chapter 3

I managed to run to the gym just before the minute hand clicked onto 8:00, panting hysterically and almost stumbling over the mats sprawled out in front of me across the floor. I had left the mess hall what felt like hours ago, but I could still vividly picture the form of Sephiroth inside my head, staring woodenly up at me through his aqua green eyes. My cheeks were still faintly tingling with faded blush.

I met my three companions near the far wall.

"_There you are!!" Mackenzie breathed restlessly as I ran up, and instantly all three whirled about to face me with irritated glares. "That was almost too close! One second later and Garcia would've flattened your face!!"_

"Where the heck were you, anyways?" Aimee questioned, meeting my eyes with her puzzled stare. "We were almost sure Landon had caught up with you again!"

"...I wouldn't worry about him," I broke in. "He's left the academy."

"What?!" All three gasped simultaneously and drew up close to me. "No way!! You're kidding!!"

"Cutting it rather close, eh, Avalon?" interrupted Garcia's cynical voice, and as I turned about I saw his stocky form standing menacingly over me. "I was literally 10 feet behind you your entire way here. Just to make sure you made it in time. Missed a nice jog around the city by twelve seconds. Impressive." With that, he turned in place and surveyed the students scattered about the room. "Now then," he announced, crossing his arms and exhaling a breath. "Partner up. We're practicing defensive drills again today, and I expect there to be some improvement over last class." He seemed to be casting rather noticeable glances over in my direction. (_Jackass, I thought sourly) "Each of you will take a turn attacking your partner while I time for 15 minutes. Your partner is in charge of keeping count of how many punches you can throw out in that time. After the 15 minutes are up, you'll switch places. Questions?" Hardly a second had passed before he went on, "Good. Pair up, then."_

The class began to emit a muffled hum of mumbles as we split off into groups of two and spread ourselves throughout the gym. Garcia watched our movements for a moment, then cast a lazy glance down at the stopwatch hanging from his throat and sauntered over towards the wall.

I slipped a yellow punching pad over my hand as Aimee slipped wrist guards onto her hands. "...So wait, keep talking," she told me, lifting her hands up before her face and shifting up onto her toes. "You never finished explaining. Landon got expelled?"

I shook my head, getting down into a half crouch and lifting the pad before my face as Garcia blew his whistle. "No, no..." I corrected her, struggling to be heard over the dull thumps her knuckles emitted when they hit the pad. "He quit. Just packed up and left."

Aimee's consecutive string of punches halted momentarily as she drew backwards in shock, but it resumed once again after one stern glare from Garcia. "Wow. That Sephiroth guy has one hell of a persuasive manner. How can the academy allow him to stay?"

"Well, I personally say good riddance to Landon," I broke in abruptly, my hands tightening into fists behind the punching pad. "That asshole had it coming to him forever. It was only a manner of time before someone kicked him in the balls."

"...Wh--Kay, you can't possibly think that just because Landon wasn't the most orthodox guy in the world meant he deserved to be nearly choked to death!" Aimee retorted irritably, and I could feel that her next chain of punches were noticeablely more fierce than the others. "Kyra, that guy is a psycho! He needs to be locked up or somethin' before he goes and--"

"Avalon!" Garcia's interrupting voice called out from somewhere behind me. "What number we up to?"

I immediately fell back into a defensive pose, holding the pad up closer to my face, and chose the first numbers that popped into my head: my age backwards and my lucky number. "Sir!! 617, sir!"

I could tell by the awkward hesitation that followed that Garcia had truly not expected an answer, and he grumbled something that sounded like an aggravated, "Carry on, then" as he sulked away towards another pair of students.

I turned back towards Aimee, who I could tell was trying to mask her amusement with her previous rage. "...I'm not saying that Landon deserved to die," I continued casually, as if nothing had interrupted; I had become rather accustomed to ignoring Garcia. "I'm just saying that an egomaniac like him deserved to be humbled a bit, that's all."

"Four more minutes!" Garcia's voice announced. It was hard to hear him over the resounding sounds of fists hitting foam and loud cries of attacking students echoing in the vast gym.

"Kay, how can you say that?!" Jesus, what had crawled up Aimee's ass and died? God forbid I ever say frickin' anything. Geez. "There is never any valid reason to stroll up and freakin' strangle someone! That Sephiroth is a menace to society!"

'Menace to society'? What the hell is this, "NYPD Blue"??? But Garcia's warning of two minutes remaining cut me short.

"..._Ugh..." The next series of attacks that Aimee slammed into my punching pad made a wave of fatigue and numbness shoot through my arms, and one glance up from the floor revealed that my surroundings were spinning and blurring in the phosphorescent lights_. Dammit..._ I thought distantly, cringing noticablely as a shock of pins and needles surged through my forearms. Not again..._

"...Kyra?" Aimee finally halted her relentless lecturing and blinked several times, shifting backwards to eye me up and down. I thought I had taught myself to successfully hide my bouts with illness, but apparently not. "Kay, are you alright? You're not looking so good..."

I have to say I was relieved she had stopped her attacks, and I took the brief opportunity to drop both my hands to my thighs and bend over to catch my breath. I could feel icy droplets of sweat slithering slowly down my forehead and along the bridge of my nose. My entire body had turned so light, wafting hazily atop its feet amongst a blurring background of glaring lights. I slowly caused my head to lift, casting sweaty strands of brunette hair across my flushed face and causing my thoughts to swim within my skull, but I flashed her a weary smile. "...Y...yea," I lied conspicuously, clasping an arm across my stomach as a vicious cramp cleaved into my gut. "...I'm...I'm fine....Just, um...give me...one second..."

The spell was getting worse. The excruciating throbbing in my head was now causing white flares of agony to flash before my eyes, and after a moment of helpless blindness I found myself collapsing weakly towards the floor.

"Kay?!" I felt Aimee's arms catch me before I could reach the ground, but her voice sounded muffled beneath my pounding headache. "Kay, oh my God!!"

I could feel cold tile now; I suppose Aimee had lowered me to the ground and was now embracing me tightly. The floor beneath me was reverberating with heavy approaching footsteps, but my eyes were still unable to see and all my strength seemed to have left me. Vaguely I could still hear Aimee's terrified cries for help and the sound of curious students running up while murmuring to each other, but some sort of high-pitched ringing had started in my ears.

"What the hell--" I could easily recognize Garcia's charming voice, and now I could feel his heavy shadow falling over me as he separated the ring of other students that had formed around us. "Oh goddam--someone call the hospital wing and tell the Professor that Avalon's collapsed. Yuki, Shiro--I'm talking to you two, dammit!"

The two specified students departed with cries of "Sir!", and now I could feel Garcia kneeling down beside me and feeling for a pulse in my wrist. "I think she's gunna be alright....Avalon, you just keep breathin', ya hear me?...Jesus, Nekoi, you're gunna kill her!!"

"What's the matter?!" Aimee exclaimed tearfully, tightening her grip about me despite Garcia's sarcastic comment. "I...I don't understand--she was fine one minute, and the next thing I know--oh, sir, I swear to God I didn't mean to--!!" Her voice dissipated into a series of sobs, and I felt several icy tear droplets splatter onto my cheeks.

It was so difficult to hear them over the shrill ring within my skull, as if they were speaking in a room full of triggered alarm clocks, but all at once I could feel the clutch of guilt seizing hold of my stomach. I wanted to hug her, tell her I was alright, that this had happened many times before, that she had nothing to do with it--but all the air had left my lungs and my ribcage had collapsed beneath the pain crushing my body.

"Calm down, Nekoi, she'll be alright," I heard Garcia reassure her, although I could tell he was preoccupied by maintaining my pulse. "This wasn't you--Professor Hojo had told me before that Avalon might have an attack like this and to simply send her to him if she does. She'll be fine."

I could sense her hand wrapped tightly around my arm, but there was no will or strength in my body to grab it comfortingly in my own. _Don't be sad, Aimee...I'm fine, I really am! Everything's fine..._

The next thing I knew someone seized me roughly and pulled me forcibly away from Aimee, thrusting me hastily (and rather brutally...if I could have spoken I would have cursed the asshole out) onto my back onto what felt like a stretcher. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed--the unusual flashes of light were continuing to blind me, pulsating in succession with the throbs in my head. Now I could feel straps being fastened across me, anchoring me to the firm board beneath me, and after counting to three I was hoisted into the air by what sounded like five people (I was relying entirely on my dulled sense of hearing now). I was being carried, whisked away from the watching eyes and tears that had begun to burn in my mind, and through the brutal hammering choking all my thoughts I came to the dazed realization that I always seemed to flee when I couldn't take the pressure. 

~*~

I hate the dark.

I always have. Ever since I was younger I've always had a phobia of when all light is extinguished, sealing you in an inescapable cocoon of isolation and forgotten thoughts. It's only when you're alone in the dark that everything from deep within you begins to inadvertently manifest itself--memories of the past, suppressed emotions, frightening realizations. Something about the murkiness draws out such thoughts, invading your soul, attacking your mind. And what frightens me even more is that I'm alone in the battle.

My entire body was strapped tightly in place, arms fastened at my sides, my head unable to lift. I was alone in the dark, staring helplessly up at the ceiling I could sense was only a matter of inches above my nose, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to stifle the violent quivering that had spread throughout my body.

God, how long had I been in here?

My eyes shifted restlessly back and forth, blindly surveying the darkness surrounding me and attempting to distract my mind to the point of not drifting.

I cringed at the sudden flash that erupted centimeters from my eyes with a mechanical whirring noise, and after a momentary pause they pale green stripe of light before my face began to gradually slide over my body, humming metallically. I could feel its warmth skimming slowly over my body, like I was gradually being immersed in water. I forced myself to swallow, tightening my fists at my sides and feeling my ragged breaths ricocheting off the darkness back onto my face.

A muffled voice from outside: "One more moment, Miss Avalon--that's it, just hold still--"

I held my breath--my heaving gasps for air had caused my chest to move noticeably--cinching my eyes shut and digging my front teeth into my lower lip. The light was finishing up scanning my knees, moving down to my ankles--

"Splendid, Miss Avalon. All finished."

There was another loud buzzing sound, and as suddenly as it appeared the green light was extinguished, plunging me into darkness once again. I exhaled the breath I'd been holding, struggling to breathe beneath the heavy leather straps fastened across my torso, and cracked my eyes open once more. The intense blackness above me was rippling from its strain on my eyes, and I instantly began to feel claustrophobic, crushed on all sides by the small quarter's invisible aura.

_What the hell let me out of here what's taking so frickin long....._

The machine around me began to vibrate with a dull humming noise, and all at once I became aware of the wonderfully relieving sensation of the platform I was laid atop of slowly sliding downwards. My hands gradually loosened, releasing my sore fingers from my crushing fists, and my compacted chest finally allowed a second weary sigh to escape. Pale white light began to sluggishly filter into the darkness, burning my blurry eyes and revealing the walls and ceiling of the tunnel only centimeters from my face. The platform continued to slide downwards, finally exiting the darkness of the machine and revealing white tile and glaring lights overhead.

Instantly several ShinRa scientists strutted forward, standing emotionlessly over me as they hastily unbuckled the harnesses anchoring my body in place and unclamping the vice about my head. No words were exchanged as they released the straps binding my thighs and calves, and as I finally shifted up into a sitting position they left my sides to observe the multicolored monitors lining the outside walls of the machine.

I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortablely, attempting to soothe the fiery pain caused by lack of movement in my neck, the visually followed the expressionless scientists sauntering quickly across the tile floor, murmuring unintelligibly to each other while flipping pages attached to wooden clipboards. No one seemed to notice my presence anymore.

"...Feeling better now, Ms. Avalon?" A chillingly raspy voice, which I immediately recognized as the same one that had spoken to me while I was in the machine, hissed from somewhere behind me, and as I slowly turned about I noticed the uncanny form of a middle aged man with greasy black hair oozing over one shoulder. He shuffled up towards me with fluid, almost snake-like steps, hunched over with his hands clasped behind his back, while watching me hungrily through a wide pair of thick glasses. His thin, dry lips had twisted up into a wry smile, revealing yellowing teeth against the contrast of his bony, sickeningly pale face. His scrawny, almost sickly frame was hidden beneath a heavy white lab coat.

He drew up beside the platform I was positioned on, continuing to grin eerily and shift his glasses further up on his nose. Brr, this jackass gave me the creeps every time I caught a whiff of his musty chemical smell.

I forced a weary smile. "Yes, Professor, much." _Can I leave now? You scare the crap outta me, you freakass pedophile._

"Splendid." His gaze shifted to the left, towards a monitor on the machine that projected a pixilated image of my body surrounded by small pie charts and other flashing data. He flipped casually through the papers on his clipboard, jotting down numbers and notes on who knows what, then shifted to the next screen portraying a picture of my skeletal setup. He murmured quietly to himself, stroking his bony, oily chin, and scribbled down more.

I watched him in silence, unaware of what else to do, as he made his way down the row of monitors while continuing to write on his clipboard. There was a brief pause, though it was hard to hear over the bustling noises of the rest of the scientists scurrying about the room, and finally he turned about on his heel and made his way back towards me, grinning with feigned warmth. Ugh, don't _do that. "All done then, Miss Avalon," he told me, leaning in close and slipping two fingers into the neck of my sports bra so that he could read the numbers of the barcode tattooed over my heart. I winced at the feeling of his dry, icy fingers against my skin. After all the times I'd been forced to come and get treatment from him, I was 100% positive that he had memorized my ID code--however, he seemed to get pleasure from leering at my chest each time I visited. Bastard. Don't _touch_ me. _

He jotted down my number along with other notes, I'm sure, then tore the paper off his clipboard and handed it off to some passing scientist. "You seem quite recovered now, my dear," he told me, sauntering over to a cabinet against the far wall and opening the double doors. Thanks, you ass--I guess if you say it, it must be true. If I had more balls, I would've given that guy such a case of the....."I'll just give you your injection and then you can be on your way, hmm?"

I nodded silently, not caring that he wasn't even facing me, then cleared my throat nervously. "...Professor, I was...meaning to ask you about that."

He still wasn't facing me, now holding a small bottle of liquid and a syringe up towards the light so he could see the measurement markings along the side. "...About what, my dear?"

"These injections you give me every time I have an attack," I answered him, ripping the wires and IVs suction cupped all over my body away with a string of eight consecutive pops. "...You...I was under the impression that they would decrease the frequency of the attacks or at least make them less severe." I sat at the edge of the table, dangling my legs over the side. "...but I think their actually happening more often, if anything." I watched as he slipped a pair of rubber gloves over his hands and approached me once again. "...What's wrong with me, Professor...?"

"Tilt your head now, that's it." He seemed completely oblivious to what I had just said, tipping my head so that my cheek rested on my shoulder and rubbing alcohol on my exposed neck. "My dear, I believe that you are simply taking more time to respond to the drug," he replied casually, and I winced noticeably as he inserted the needle into the side of my throat. A fiery current raced through my bloodstream, causing my arms and legs to go numb and my vision to black out temporarily. "It's truly nothing to worry about. You simply come back here any time you feel an attack coming on, hmm? I'll run some tests, give you another injection, and you'll be good to go."

"...Yessir." I stood, hesitating for a moment in order to allow the feeling to return to my extremities, then nodded respectfully. "Thank you, sir."

Professor Hojo snapped off both rubber gloves, tossing them carelessly into the pail beside the table and throwing his arm about my shoulders. He's touching me again, why is he touching me? "Anytime, my dear. You just remember what I said and try to stay well, hmm?"

"Yessir." I shifted uncomfortably out from underneath his embrace and shuffled backwards towards the door. "So long."

I didn't wait for him to reply; _to _hell_ with this. I whirled about on my heel, accidentally colliding with another scientist who simply reshuffled the papers he was holding and continued forward without as much as a reaction, and sauntered towards the door. I could still feel his icy green eyes drilling brutally into my back as I left, watching out after me over his glasses as I walked alone down the empty hallway back towards the main building._

~*~

I didn't realize how long I had been receiving treatment in Professor Hojo's lab; by the time I reached the main gym in order to return to my class, a new group of students were practicing there. As a matter of fact, that's the first time I actually decided to read the analog clock hanging above the doorway, which revealed there was only half an hour or so before lunch mess. As a result, my initial reaction was _Screw this_, announcing my decision to wander the hallways until the bell rang; I was in no mood to hike across campus to reach my materia class, much less actually sit through it.

So I wandered.

The hallways were entirely empty, with the exception of the occasional class cutter such as myself or a medical team rushing an injured student up towards the hospital wing. They cast me a stern glance as they raced by, and one even cried out, "Why aren't you in class?", but other than that, they were much too preoccupied with the blood gushing out of a student's stomach or the fact that his entire left arm was entirely enveloped in third degree burns to pay me any more mind, and I saluted their backs with a one fingered farewell as soon as they passed me by.

After maybe ten minutes or so of aimless journeying, I was actually becoming rather bored and was toying with the thought of maybe heading in the direction of my class when I heard the sound of a shouting voice coming from somewhere down the hall. I hesitated for a moment, glancing around me to see if anyone else had heard the noise; however, I was entirely alone in this corridor, with the exception of the resounding yells continuing further down in front of me. I shuffled silently forward, hearing the noise grow louder--that voice sounded familiar--and casting glances into any rooms I passed.

I had reached the closed double doors of one of the auxiliary gyms and had flicked a quick gaze through one of the small port windows when I halted clumsily. There, positioned across the room from the doors, was a pair of figures standing before a row of suspended punching bags. One was especially tall, a good half a foot above the other, while standing rigidly and staring at the ceiling--a student, I presume, judging by the uniform and respectful salute....although he seemed to be stifling some anger by the way his fists were clenched at his sides. The other, shorter, fatter, and better dressed, was walking about the student in irritated circles, with his hands clasped behind his back and stopping occasionally only to shake a scolding finger.

I drew up closer to the window, squinting my eyes and pressing my forehead up against the cold glass. I recognized the shorter figure--that was General Heidegger, an extremely conspicuous right-hand man for the ShinRa Corp; between his obesity, his tight-stretched green uniform, and the bushy brown beard encompassing at least 75% of his face, he was the type of guy you'd be able to point out in the dark. He seemed to be the one who was yelling, pacing back and forth across the floor and waving about a crumbled piece of paper he held in his pudgy fist.

I lifted my hands to the window, squinting my eyes even further. Now who was the other one....?

I drew in a sharp gasp as I noticed silvery hair falling loosely over the student's broad shoulders, and my mind instantly pieced that together with his height and obvious rage problem to realize that it was no other than Sephiroth, standing rigidly against the wall while taking a verbal whipping from a very obviously pissed off Heidegger. I must have made more noise than I thought, because for a moment the general ceased his lecture to cast a glance over his shoulder at the doors where I stood. I instantly clapped two hands over my mouth and threw myself to the floor, out of sight. There was a pause, but suddenly I could hear his voice continuing to shout, though muffled by the doors between us. I pressed my ear against the cold metal.

".....ompletely unacceptable, do you hear me??" Heidegger was yelling, and I could hear the rustle of the paper in his hand once again. "Do you understand my absolute shock when I got this in the mail this morning?? Hmm??"

"....No, sir," came Sephiroth's emotionless reply.

"Look at this!! Look!!!" Uncrumpling paper. "Our enrollment has dropped off 37%!! _37%!!!! After people heard that there is a possibility that one could get choked to death during training, they decided that this was not a good place to apply!! Do you realize what a couple more of your pointless stunts could do to this academy??"_

"...Yes, sir."

"No, I don't think you do!!" I could hear fancy polished shoes squeaking against tile, and I guess he had begun to pace again. "Do you realize, Sephiroth, that we need students to apply here in order to stay open?? What do you think will happen to you and the rest of your classmates if this place goes ka-put?? Hmm?? It's the street for all you bastards, that's what!!"

"Yes, sir."

"Now I don't ever want to hear about any crap like this ever again!!" It sounded like Heidegger's breaths had become ragged; poor old fat man. "If I do, I think it's safe to say that you will not like my reaction, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"...Fine then." The general exhaled an exhausted breath--yes, insulting all of one's students certainly takes a lot out of one, I'm sure--and a faint ruffling noise told me his was digging into his pocket for a handkerchief. "Now...there seems to be approximately 20 minutes until lunch mess. I believe a strong young man like you would be able to make it, say, three times around the city in that time?? Without bothering any innocent resident or knocking over anything?? And he would still be able to make it _exactly on time _to the mess hall??"

There was an agitated pause after that one. "...Yes, sir."

"I thought so. At ease, then." I heard him turn about on his heel, trudging towards the door on the opposite side of the gym, then stop and turn about. "...Oh, and wear a sweatshirt. It started raining."

"Yes, sir." Heidegger's footsteps left the room, and I heard a pair of doors swing closed.

I didn't move for a moment, still listening intently with my ear against the door, then shifted slowly up into a standing position in order to peer through the small circular window. Sephiroth still hadn't moved from his rigid stance against the wall, though now his face showed an obvious expression of fury, and all at once he whirled about with a piercing yell and slammed his fist brutally into the wall. I exhaled a frightened squeal, stumbling inadvertently backwards as I could feel the double doors vibrate on their hinges, then struggled to regain myself and peer through the window once more. Sephiroth was heading over towards the storage closet behind the dumbbell pyramids, where I knew a series of heavy sweatshirts hung in case of adverse weather. 

I slowly pushed open the double doors, hesitating momentarily after catching a glimpse of the large dent put through the wall.

He was no longer in sight as I made my way into the gym, noticing a thin layer of dust and sand on the mats after observing that one punching bag was missing from the line, then straightened myself up and approached the closet.

He had already pulled a large black sweatshirt emblazoned with the ShinRa logo over his head by the time I came into view, and he was oblivious to my presence, pulling the hood over his head and reaching for the doorknob of the emergency exit towards the back of the closet.

"...H...Hey!!" I cried hoarsely, holding an arm out towards him. "W...wait a sec!!"

He halted, turning to cast a glance over his shoulder, then turned about fully when he saw my face. His eyes still showed a tint of anger, but his face remained carved from stone. His green eyes glowed especially eerily when hidden in the shadow of his hood. He didn't speak.

Dammit, my face was turning red again. Maybe he didn't notice... "Hi again," I began stupidly, smiling and holding my hand up in a pathetic wave gesture. "...Do...do you remember me...?"

He didn't respond, staring indifferently down into my face. I was almost about to start another conversation with myself when all of a sudden he broke in monotonously. ".....Yes. Kyra."

"...H...huh??" I must've sounded really retarded then, but I couldn't help it--I wasn't even expecting him to recognize my face, let alone recall my name. I exhaled a nervous laugh and nodded hastily, almost unnaturally. "...Y...yea!! How...how are ya??" I had a feeling he wasn't going to answer, either that or all of a sudden deck me in the face, so I only left half a second of reaction time before I went on. "...L...Listen, I saw what happened.....Why didn't you tell Heidegger what happened??...I mean, that you were stopping Landon from hurting me? I'm sure he--"

"I wasn't," he interrupted. "I hated Landon."

"....Oh." Wow, was not expecting that answer. I was taken completely off guard and was left to clumsily try and redirect my thoughts like a moron. Yay Kyra. "...We....Well, still, you'd think that you'd get some brownie points for doing that...even if it was accidental." I forced a fake sounding laugh. Ye-ah, definitely just sounded like one of the Three Stooges there. Jesus. "...Um...cuz who knows what crap Landon could've done if....you hadn't...stepped in."

"...I told you, I was looking for an opportunity to kick Landon's ass," he answered indifferently. "It could've been anyone."

"But the point is, it was me," I insisted, taking a step forward but immediately stopping. "It was me that you saved, even if it wasn't on purpose, even if it didn't matter to you--it meant something to me. And...and I feel guilty that you're being punished and lectured because of it while I get off with nothing."

"You didn't get off with nothing," he told me. "You've got that bruise on your face."

"Wh--" My hand instinctively went to my injured cheek, which I had almost entirely forgotten about but which emitted a very real burn as soon as I touched it. "...what, this?? This is nothing, give me a break."

"No, it's not," he replied. "You keep it hidden under your hair so it doesn't make anyone worry."

I sat silently, gaping blankly up at him as a uneasy shudder slid one icy finger down the length of my spine...............Um, whoa. What exactly do you say to that? "...N...no...." I stuttered uncomfortablely, clenching my free hand into a fist behind my back. My gaze suddenly fell to the floor, casting several strands of brunette hair across my flaming complexion. A cold silence filled the room.

He was the one that decided to break it. "...Listen, I have to go," he told me, turning the knob and pushing it open, releasing a harsh blast of wind and icy droplets of rain into the closet. "If I don't, I'll never get back in time to shut that bastard up."

"...Wa--Here, I'll come with you!!" I piped up quickly, snapping out of my trance and pulling another baggy sweatshirt off of one of the nails in the wall. "It's only fair--I should be the one running, not you."

"I've got three laps around the city to run," he informed me, though he looked slightly taken aback by my actions. "You'll never make it. Heidegger's a bastard."

"I'll keep up, I swear!!" I persisted, though my voice was muffled by the fact that I was trying to yank the shirt over my head. I finally managed to escape the choking collar and tie the drawstrings about my throat. "I won't be in the way! I just need to do this for my own peace of mind, ok??"

He stared down at me, crystalline droplets of rain clinging to the silver bangs lining his face, then exhaled a short breath, shrugged his shoulders, and murmured a quick, "Suit yourself." before turning about and jogging out into the rain. I was sure to notice, however, that even after he had exited the closet he was sure to hold the door until I followed.


End file.
